


The Jackdaw and the Woodpecker: A Pre-Sundering Parable

by Indices



Category: Warcraft - All Media Types, World of Warcraft
Genre: Backstory, F/F, Fairy Tale Elements, Unreliable Narrator
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-24
Updated: 2019-07-24
Packaged: 2020-07-19 05:38:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,098
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19968916
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Indices/pseuds/Indices
Summary: Once, long ago, there was a young woodpecker who lived on the outskirts of a vast forest.





	The Jackdaw and the Woodpecker: A Pre-Sundering Parable

Once, long ago, there was a young woodpecker who lived on the outskirts of a vast forest. In the center of this forest stood a towering tree, called the Songbird Tree, whose branches reached for the very heavens. Pale was its wood, and from its boughs ruled the Songbird Queen, whose feathers were as snow-white as the leaves of her tree.

The strangest thing about this tree, however, was that it grew out of a peculiar reflecting-pool: one with waters so clear it was said that one could glimpse within it the secrets of the universe. Animals would come from every corner of the forest just to catch a glimpse, and it was said that the queen would descend to the pool every morning to inspect her reflection. How beautiful she was, and how mesmerizing her song! It was said that no bird or beast could resist its allure.

Our woodpecker had always heard of these wonders from travelers, but had never gotten the chance to visit for herself—until one day she finally decided to make the trip. It was long and grueling, and when she finally reached the Songbird Tree the woodpecker realized she had no idea where to go. This tree was larger than any she had seen before, and its branches stretched out before her like a labyrinth.

Just when she began to despair, a voice called out to her. “Are you quite all right?” It was a jackdaw, whose sleek feathers and patrician air made the woodpecker feel terribly rumpled by comparison. But the jackdaw was generous, if a tad arrogant, and helped her despite not being obliged to in the slightest. Evidently she had come from the forest herself, to study at the Tree.

“Such manners are only befitting of a courtier,” explained the jackdaw, grinning as best a bird could grin. “You see, I am a student of song. When my studies are complete, I hope to counsel the queen herself, and sip eternal from the cup of power.” So saying, she winked in what she probably thought was a nefarious way (but really just looked smug), and preened.

Although the woodpecker could not bring herself to approve of such naked ambition, she found herself amused by the jackdaw’s audacity. The two grew amicable, and in time the woodpecker became that much more accustomed to the splendors of the great tree.

However, the day of her return eventually came, and she had to bid her friend farewell.

Meanwhile, the Songbird Queen’s advisers spoke to her of marriage—for although she had ruled since time immemorial, there were many who desired her power for their own. But the queen’s mind was set on the matter. For a ruler such as her, she said, there would only be one fitting match: the sun. For what else could match her in power and brilliance, but that old sun itself?

For weeks the queen and her advisers gazed deep into the reflecting-pool, devising a ritual that would bring the sun to earth. Finally, it came to them: a message from the sun’s reflection, distorted by the waters of the pool. It spoke to them of a melody that would allow them to transform the reflection into its true form, so that it may be wed to the queen. For she did not care that the pool would dry into nothing, or that the forest would be torn asunder, so long as the sun would be her groom.

And so, on the day of the Summer Solstice, the Songbird Queen sang.

At first, nothing happened.

Then, something began to rise from the water. Terrible it was, and burning bright, so bright that even the queen and her councilors could not stand to look at it. But this sun was a capricious thing, given to cruelty, and had sent solar flares into the forest to herald its coming. Thus, rumors of the queen’s plan had already spread to the other animals. Even the jackdaw, sensing the increasing unlikeliness of her ambitions, had fled the Tree beforehand.

Forming an impromptu resistance, the other denizens of the forest planned sabotage—and so the false-sun that rose out of the water was only a pale imitation. But it was still much larger than the reflecting pool. All at once, before the onlookers’ very eyes, the water vanished into the super-heated air, and the earth began to split, and split, and split…

Far away, the woodpecker felt a tremor in the earth. Only an earthquake, she told herself, but then she saw the smoke rising in the distance, and birds taking desperate flight. There was a noise like a branch snapping—a branch the size of a continent—and the ground beneath her tree moved for what felt like a long time.

She closed her eyes in one world and opened them in another.

And so the great tree fell into the sea, along with the queen and all her riches, and when the forest finished burning the birds rebuilt their home as best they could. But this time, there was to be no song. At least, not of the sort that had been practiced in the high boughs of the Songbird Queen’s court—the sort that could summon suns to earth.

The woodpecker did not mind so much, for her voice had never been suited for such arts, but her friend the jackdaw could not be content. So of course she protested, as her high station had taught her to, and of course they had to send her away. For there were other protesters, who in their discontent had sung so loud that they conjured a windstorm that stripped trees of their leaves and birds of their feathers.

But the jackdaw had not been involved in that stunt, so the woodpecker, by then somewhat more respected among the animals, was able to intercede on her behalf. In the end, the jackdaw was not sent so far as some of the others. Not across the inland sea but just outside the forest, in the other direction, close enough that her kin could visit death on her should they see her again.

The woodpecker never found out what happened to her friend. But sometimes she wonders—ahem, _wondered_ —looking up at the stars.

Was she dead? Was she lonely? Had she gone mad?

And above all, had she been right to vouch on her behalf?

But these mysteries would be unknowable, even if one were to live for ten thousand years. And we all know that woodpeckers live for fewer than twenty.


End file.
